


Hungry Heart

by Dreadful_Penny



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreadful_Penny/pseuds/Dreadful_Penny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short little interlude with Pete and Myka on Myka's state of mind after seeing Helena again.  Pete's not the smartest cookie, but he can tell when something's just not right with his partner.  After the events in "Instinct," Myka's not talking.  Or eating.  It may be time for a pit stop...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry Heart

Interstate scenery. Mile markers. Scrubby trees. Overpasses. Bridges. Exit signs. Rest areas. It never changes, it never grows more fascinating. That is the beauty in interstate scenery. The unchanging landscape allows the mind the freedom to wander as much as it may desire. It was an almost zen experience, Myka decided. Maybe she would share this particular insight with Steve after they'd returned home. Zen and the art of interstate riding.

"Mykes, there's a convenience store after the next exit, I'm stopping."

"Hmm." The occasional roadside attraction made for an interesting break in the monotony. Here was Santa's Runaway Sleigh and Christmas Tree Megamart. Here was a discount tobacco warehouse. 

"I'm starving. We skipped lunch and dinner, and I had one of those little pies from McDonalds, but other than that, I'm so freaking starving."

"Hmm."

"You hungry? They might have salads or something. This is one of those mac-daddy truck stop places. Showers, gift shop, naughty DVDs to warm those lonely nights in the 18 wheelers."

"Whatever."

"Maybe some yogurt? Or you could have what I'm having. Which is seven chili dogs. With extra onion."

"Sure."

"Ok. And instead of flying the rest of the way home, I went ahead and cancelled our plane tickets. I thought we'd road trip it. Chili dogs and classic rock the whole way there. You game?"

"Mmm."

"Right," Pete said, not taking his eyes off the road. He followed the signs to the travel stop. The entire place was painted a garish yellow with orange and red swirls to accent. He circled the parking lot to the area designated for cars and pulled into a parking spot as far away from the building as he could find. He killed the engine, removed his seatbelt and turned to face Myka. She wouldn't stop staring out of her window. "And maybe, we can make a few side trips. Head to Graceland. Hit up a Six Flags. You ever been to Texas? There's this place with a steak dinner, and it's ginormous, and if you finish the whole thing in under an hour it's free. Plus you get a t-shirt."

"Yes, Pete, I have been to Texas. You know that I have been to Texas, because we both went. Last year. We snagged a bunch of books."

"I don't remember that."

"The books from the schoolbook depository in Dallas?"

"Oh yeah! Dallas! I remember that mall we went to. And you wouldn't let me get Ranger tickets while we were there. I tried to find Claudia some boots, but turns out they're kind of way more expensive than you'd expect. Especially in Texas. No books though."

"The book depository from JFK's assassination?" Myka turned at that moment, giving him one of her best 'What the hell' looks. "Some of the books ended up in that giant used bookstore and they were causing all of those paranoid delusions in anybody who opened them up?"

"I remember the bookstore! They had a great little coffee shop in the middle. Killer brownies."

"Pete! The interior designer? She bought the books to use in a model home? Shot her assistant and tried to say it was a government conspiracy?" Pete smiled angelically, innocent confusion blossoming across his face. Myka's frown cracked into a smile. 

"i'm not going to ask how dumb you think I am," Pete said. "Because I really don't want to know the answer. But hey! You're talking to me! Pretty smart move by Lattimer."

"You didn't really cancel the plane tickets, did you?"

"I'll answer that question after you have a snack," Pete said sternly. "You need to eat something."

"I'm fine!" Myka insisted.

"No you aren't. I know the last thing you ate. And you don't even have any of those little snack packs in your bag that you sometimes bring with you. I know, I checked. Stay out of my purse, Pete."

"Stay…" Myka started to speak but stopped when she heard Pete's mockery. "Fine. I'll have something to eat."

"Awesome! I'm so hungry. I bet they have fried cheese curds here."

The inside of the store nearly qualified as a Warehouse of its own, solely on the variety of snack foods available on the shelves. Pete had made a beeline for the fast food counter in the back while Myka wandered around. Before too long she gave up trying to find something inoffensive. By the time Pete found her in the aisles she was clutching a large bag of mini Oreos, a bottle of root beer and a bag of Chili Cheese Fritos. 

"Nice!" Pete said. "I took the liberty of choosing something for the lady's dining enjoyment." He held up a large paper bag triumphantly. "Here, get some bean dip and let's go check out. We can sit outside and nosh for a bit." Pete grabbed two large bottles of water and followed Myka to the front register. 

A few minutes later Pete led Myka to the small patio on the side of the building. Wrought iron picnic tables were bolted into the cement. Yellow and red umbrellas graced each table. Had there been any other intrepid diners, they would have been nicely protected from the sun. Pete was glad to see that they had the place to themselves. He had a feeling that privacy was going to be a necessity for the coming conversation.

"Did you get anything that's not deep fried or meant to be eaten with ranch dressing?" Myka said, eyeing the various items that Pete was pulling out of the paper bag.

"Nope!" Pete said cheerfully. "You could use the grease and salt. Good for the soul."

"If not the arteries," Myka said. "I thought you mentioned a salad for me?"

"Well, you said that thing about the ranch dressing. That took the salad out of the running." Pete smiled and handed Myka the Caesar salad that he'd picked up for her. "While I personally wouldn't touch the junk, I got you that lemon pepper stuff you like. Give me Hidden Valley or give me death."

"Right," Myka said. The weariness was starting to settle back over her. She rubbed her eyes and picked up her fork. "Ok, I'm eating. Flight plans?" 

"Tomorrow morning," Pete said. He popped a fried cheese curd in his mouth. "Oh my gosh. Heaven!" he exclaimed with his mouth full. "Claudia got us on a slightly later flight." He swallowed.

"Why would she do that?" Myka said. Her forehead wrinkled in frustration and confusion. 

"You've gotta try one of these," Pete said, pushing the cardboard dish towards Myka. "These things are what mozzarella sticks want to be when they grow up."

"Pete!"

"Because I asked her to. Artie agreed that maybe a bit of extra time might be good for you to…" Pete's voice trailed off. He picked up his burger and began peeling the foil back. 

"Good for me. Good for me to what?" Myka said, narrowing her eyes.

"Good grief, Myka. We both know what just happened back there. And maybe you don't want to talk about it, and that's fine, but you need to try to deal with it a little before we get home. You know Claudia's going to want to know about HG and you're going to have to tell her something. Leena too." Pete examined his burger but didn't take a bite. "Mykes, I know this must have been hard for you to see--"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Myka said. "This was fine for me to see. Helena's obviously happy and I'm happy for her."

"I wish Steve was here," Pete said. "I'm pretty sure you're lying, but the confirmation would be nice."

"Why should I lie?" Myka dropped her fork on her little plastic plate and reached for the bag of mini Oreos. "My friend found a place to heal and she seems to be finding her peace. I'm happy for her." Myka concentrated on perfectly tearing open the bag of cookies. After a few moments she succeeded. She held the bag out to Pete. "Want one? They're the peanut butter kind." Pete took a handful of cookies and waved one in the air to make his point.

"Ok, look. This! This is my evidence! My tasty, sugary evidence! You, Myka, are stressed. You never want sweets unless you're stressed. And I'm pretty sure that chocolate is good for this, so why don't you go ahead and have some cookies." Pete popped half of his handful of cookies into his mouth. " 'ey're 'ummy! E'en oooo ca't shay 'ey do't taste…delicious." Pete took a swig from his water. "I'm pretty good at talking with my mouth full. Wonder if that's my super secret power." Myka didn't react; she had dropped back down into her own world again. Pete sighed. "Please talk to me," he said. "No jokes, no innuendo, just me, listening to you talk. Right now, you're my best friend, Mykes. We're more than partners. We're like the Wonder Twins."

Myka managed a small smile. "No jokes, huh."

"I'm weaning myself off of them."

"Right." Myka took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "So, Helena wasn't just my friend. We were…close." She opened her eyes. Pete's face was startlingly neutral. He nodded and she felt herself relax a little. "Very close. It was a little bit…terrifying? At first? Because I've never clicked with someone like that before. And never with…" she halted. "Never with a woman," she finally said, her voice wobbled a little. "It didn't matter to me after I met her because she was…is, just so…I can't even describe…"

"Damn, girl," Pete said. "You've got it bad." 

Myka closed her eyes again. "Seeing her there, with that man that she doesn't really love, was one of the most painful things that I've had to deal with in a while. I'll feel better soon. But she's deluding herself if she thinks that it's going to last. She's got so much of her self buried right now I'm not sure she can see the truth. She changed her perfume." Myka opened her eyes at last. Pete's heart ached at the sadness he saw in his friend's eyes. "She works out at Curves. She goes to Starbucks. She's really immersed herself in the role of Emily Lake."

"She seemed to be getting better there towards the end," Pete said. "Maybe she really is happy there with him."

"Pete, I know Helena. I've…I've been in love with her for a while and that isn't who she is. I read some of her old diaries when we still thought she was our enemy. That domestic scene we saw? That's never been her. There's no way she's happy with that…charade."

"Maybe not, but you need to let her figure this out on her own," Pete said. "You love her, right?"

"Yes," Myka whispered.

"Then give her some space for now. If she's really unhappy, she'll figure that out soon enough and get out. I think. She doesn't seem the type to deliberately keep herself in an unhappy situation. She'll get bored being Holly Housewife soon enough."

"And what makes you think so."

"She's just like you," Pete said. He smiled fondly at Myka. "And I know you'd get bored with that situation soon enough. Domestic bliss is not exactly fulfilling after the whole endless wonder schtick. Besides, if she doesn't get bored and come begging for you to take her back, there are plenty of diabolical geniuses in the Bronze Sector sea."

"Are we back to jokes?"

"We're back! " Pete picked up his bottle of water and raised it in a mock toast. "I love you, Mykes. You're like my sister. I hate seeing you go through this. And I'll help you in any way that you need me to. Let's finish lunch before it gets any colder. Or warmer. What happens to a salad when it sits out?”


End file.
